


Protector

by Anna_Jay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Child!Hannibal, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Will is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Jay/pseuds/Anna_Jay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While searching the house of the recent attack from a cannibalistic killer, Will finds an injured and emotionally scarred boy with his dead sister in his arms. The boy, Hannibal Lecter, is given to Will for him to keep an eye on as well as protect. The killer knows he has loose ends and has set his sights on Hannibal. However, he's going to have a hard time getting through Will Graham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The scene was horrific. The basement floor was covered in blood and limbs, some of the body parts appearing to be gnawed upon or sliced open. There was no direct method to the killer's motives with some of the bodies appearing to be neatly sliced with organs missing while others were hacked and torn apart. The smell of decomposing bodies was over powering causing many FBI agents to leave the scene. Agent Will Graham was all too familiar with these kinds of murders, his mind easily slipping into the killer's mind to try and track a method to his madness. Unfortunately, he had been on the case for weeks and wasn't any closer to the figuring out the cannibalistic killer than when he started.

Will blinked and came back into his own mind, rubbing at his eyes as he attempted sort out the new information and figure out what could be of use. It wasn't much. He listened as agents walked around upstairs and gathered evidence and move bodies to be taken to autopsy. Will hoped they could ID some of the victims so their families could have some solace. He glanced around the room once more before turning to Jack Crawford, who was looking at him expectantly. As Will shook his head, Crawford became angry.

“Will this is the fourth family we've found and we aren't any closer to finding him,” Crawford snapped. “Are you even trying?” It was Will's turn to snarl, hands curling into fists.

“It's not my fault I can't get a read, Jack. I'm not a psychic. I get what I can from the crime scenes. He leaves little for me to pick up on even though his methods are messy and inconsistent.” Will had been over every possibility. The killer was either a butcher or a surgeon, for the cuts that were made to take out delicate organs were done with a precise hand. However they couldn't find anyone who matched anything Will suggested. Everyone on the team were at their wits end with this case and right now all Will wanted was to be able to go home and sleep in the safety of his dogs. 

Crawford gave Will one last glare before storming off upstairs, barking orders at anyone who was within ear shot. Will sighed and rubbed his eyes once more. He was left alone in the basement, the stench finally getting to him. He began to make his way back up to the main floor when a noise caught his attention. Drawing his gun, he crept toward the sound and found himself standing by a water furnace. Puzzled, Will tapped along the wall before feeling an odd protrusion in the wall. Taking his flashlight out, he discovered that it was a discrete lever, leading to a secret room. Before he could think about what he was doing, Will opened the door and was bombarded with the fresh stench of blood. Staggering back, Will readied his gun in case the killer was in there, but quickly lowered it at what he saw.

Sitting in a pool of blood was a little boy of no more than seven or eight years. His eyes were wide, his body shaking and quaking under Will's gaze. In his arms lay a limp and hacked body of a little girl, her blond hair streaked with blood.

Will gasped at the sight and stepped forward to help the boy, but retreated when the boy flinched back, clutching at the body protectively. Will dropped to his knees, holstering his gun and setting his flashlight on the ground. He raised his hands slowly in a pacifying manner and slumped his shoulders in, making himself appear defenseless and non aggressive.

“Hey there,” Will spoke, his voice soft and coaxing. He held his palms face up, showing there was nothing in them and held them out as if the boy was a stray dog he was trying to ease and sooth. The boy still flinched as Will's hands got closer, but his shoulders were relaxed. Will hypothesized the boy thought he was the killer coming to finish the job and now he saw it was just a stranger he was calmer. However, not by much. “I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Agent Will Graham. I work for the FBI. You are going into shock and need to be treated. Will you let me approach you?”

The boy continued to stare at Will with owlish eyes, his brown eyes staring directly into Will's blue. Will was surprised eye contact with the boy wasn't making him as uncomfortable as it should have, but he chalked it up to the fact this was a child and was in need of help. He waited for the boy to give a sign he understood and would allow him to come closer, but the boy remained still. A few moments passed before tears came to the boy's eyes. His lips moved and Will had to strain his ears to hear what the boy was saying.

“M...Mischa.” Was all the boy uttered, clutching the body of the little girl to his chest. Will's heart shattered as he watched as the boy broke eye contact and looked at the girl. He gently shook her as if to wake her, but the girl continued to lay limply in his lap. The boy continued to call to the girl, occasionally speaking sentences in another language, but his efforts were in vain. Will didn't know what to do as he watched as the boy began to break down, his shock ebbing away and the horrors of reality catching up with him. Hesitantly, Will placed a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder. 

The boy violently jerked out of his grasp and Will took his hand back, but soon found himself with the boy and the dead girl in his lap. The boy held on desperately to the girl with one hand and Will's jacket with the other. He continued to babble in another language, the only word Will was able to make out was “Mischa”. Will wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him steady as he sobbed and gently rocked him. He was so focused on helping the boy he barely made out the sounds of feet running down the stairs to his location. He twisted enough to look over his shoulder as Crawford and some others from his team stood a few feet away, stunned at what they saw.

Crawford was the first to break the momentary paralysis, “Get a paramedic!” and within minutes the paramedics arrived with a stretcher to take the boy to the ambulance. When they tried to take the boy from Will's arms, he screamed and held tighter, burying his face into Will's chest. Will held his hand up for the paramedic to back up a little before addressing the distressed child.

“Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay. I need you to do something for me okay?” The child raised his head and looked at Will, his eyes watery and red. Will realized that even though he spoke in another language, he could understand Will perfectly. “I need you to go with the paramedic. They are good people. They are going to fix you up and take you to the hospital.”

The child shook his head, his gaze going from Will, the paramedic, to the girl, and finally back to Will. “Will you go with them if I come along?” The child quickly nodded and clung to the girl as Will hoisted both of them up and onto the stretcher. However, things became problematic again when someone tried to take the girl away.

“Ne! Ji lieka!”

Will gently hushed and calmed him down once more before reasoning with him. “She needs help too. She'll be going with us, but on a different stretcher, okay? They need to help you first before anything can be done for her.” Will felt terrible. He knew by saying this he was getting the boy's hopes up that the girl would make it alive, but he had a suspicion that the boy was aware she was dead, but in his shock he was trying to deny it. The boy blinked at Will a few times before letting out a sob and relinquishing the girl to another agent. He watched as she was taken away before his eyes drooped and his collapsed onto the stretcher.

Will followed the paramedics to the ambulance and was about to get in when Crawford called to him. “I'll meet you at the hospital.”

Will nodded before climbing in, taking hold of the boy's hand as the ambulance pulled away from the crime scene.


	2. Chapter 2

“The house belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Alekna, and we have just been informed that the family visiting them were the Lecters. Both families were from Lithuania with the Lecters visiting the Aleknas for a couple weeks,” Crawford began, looking through sheets of paper and pictures of the victims. Will and Beverly stood around the desk, looking at the pictures as well. “Both families were murdered, the boy was the only survivor.”

“Hannibal Lecter,” Will muttered, his eyes still on the pictures. It had been a few days since the massacre and Will spent most of his time sitting by the boy's side. When he had finally come to, he was much calmer, but he wouldn't speak. Will managed to get a name out of him before he completely went silent. 

“Correct. Hannibal is our only witness to what happened that night. It is likely he saw who our killer was before he went into hiding. However,” Jack leaned back in his chair, a troubled look crossing his features. “because he has stopped talking, and media has been informed of there being one survivor, the killer might come back to finish the job. Hannibal needs to watched and kept hidden until he starts talking again.” 

“Does he have family back home?” Beverly asked. 

“No, but he does have family in France. We have sent word out to them, but they have not responded.” Jack replied. “In any case, he cannot leave the States. He's a witness.” 

There was a long pause before Beverly broke it. “Where's he going to stay?” She looked up at Will. “He can't stay in the hospital. It would be too dangerous; easy prey for the killer.”

“He could stay with Dr. Alana Bloom,” Jack said. “She's a psychiatrist and could help him get over the loss of his family as well as coax him into talking again.” 

“No, that won't work,” Will spoke, adjusting his glasses. “She'll be out of town for the next three weeks.”

Jack let out a huff before rubbing his eyes. It had been a tiring couple days. There were absolutely no leads to whereabouts of the killer, and Hannibal wasn't talking. The times Will was by his side the boy refused to sleep, simply staring off into space while Will tried to communicate with him. He'd first questioned him about what happened in the basement, but he soon backtracked when Hannibal began to shake. He'd asked him about his favorite things which soon turned into any question.

Do you like sports? What's Lithuania like? Is it pretty? How do you like America? 

But Hannibal wouldn't answer to anything. 

After that Will simply sat in the chair next to the bed, reading a book or lightly dozing. He caught Hannibal looking at him a couple times, his big, brown eyes boring into his with such intensity he had to look away. When he looked back the boy was back to looking off into space.

Jack brought Will out of his thoughts when the man sighed. He looked at his desk before looking up at him. They shared a moment before Will shook his head.

“No.” He looked at Beverly, but she was giving him pleading look. “No. I'm not good with kids. I can barely take care of myself, let alone be responsible for a child.”

“But you own dogs,” Jack reasoned. “You take good care of your dogs, Will. This will be no different.”

“Taking care of a dog is very different than taking care of a small human being, Jack.” Will grounded out, raking his fingers through his hair. “What am I supposed to do with him when I have to go to work? I can't leave him alone and I can't take him with me.”

“I'll give you paid leave if you take him.” Jack offered, hands clenching into fists. “Will, I need you to do this. You have been around Hannibal the most, gotten to know him the most.” Will snorted, eyes narrowing.

“'Gotten to know him the most'. Jack, he doesn't talk. The only thing he's said to be have been the name of his sister and his own.” Will crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact with both Jack and Beverly. “Besides, don't you need me to help catch the killer?”

“You would be helping us catch him by making Hannibal talk,” Jack said. “Hannibal is our only witness, Will. He could have seen something. Out of everybody here, he'd trust you the most.”

“Will, please.” Beverly pleaded, her hand resting lightly on Will's arm. Will flinched at the contact, but didn't try to remove her arm. There was a long pause before Will sighed.

“Fine.”

–

Will had tried to make his home look presentable, scrubbing and cleaning the floors and counters; trying to make the smell of dog less noticeable. However, when he brought Hannibal from the hospital he saw his little nose wrinkle in distaste and knew it was a lost cause. 

“Well, this is my home,” Will said, feeling more and more idiotic as he walked around the kitchen, pulling out a chair for Hannibal. He had put the dogs in the living room, not wanting to overwhelm the boy with five dogs rushing to greet their new housemate. He had warned him before he took him home that he had dogs, but Hannibal didn't seem to mind, but now with him here he wasn't so sure what Hannibal would think. 

“Do you like dogs?” Will asked, hopeful that this would elicit a response. 

Hannibal remained unmoving. Will let out a sigh before turning to the fridge and pulling out some items to make food. 

“I'm not sure what you like, but I have lots of fish. I catch them myself,” He added, turning to the boy with a smile. “Have you ever fished?”

Hannibal blinked.

“Well, if you want I can take you fishing sometime,” Will said, looking away as the boy's stare became uncomfortable. “It might be boring for you, but I find it relaxing. To be able to be out in nature, away from all the people.” He sighed wistfully, turning back to making food. He figured he'd make grilled salmon; it was easy and it was one of the only dishes he could make without it looking like a jumbled mess. 

The kitchen fell into silence, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as Will first thought it would be. He listened to the crickets outside as he prepared the fish to be put on the grill; the clicking of the dogs' nails in the next room with their occasional whimpering adding to the noise; and the slight shuffle Hannibal made when he got off the chair and walked to his side. Will looked down at him, a smile on his face. 

“Would you like to help me, Hannibal?” he asked. The boy slowly nodded causing Will's smile to grow. “If you would like you can clean the vegetables, but wash your hands first.” 

After a while they fell into a rhythm: Will would cut the meat and take it outside to put on the grill while Hannibal cleaned vegetables, standing on a chair so he could reach the counter. When Hannibal finished, he looked at Will for something else to do. Because Will didn't feel it would be safe to give Hannibal a knife, he took over the duty of preparing the vegetables while he had Hannibal set the table. There wasn't much to set, or so Will thought. When he turned to see how Hannibal was doing, he saw the boy had set two plates, two pairs of forks, two knives, and one spoon for each of them. Will watched how he arranged them, making sure they were even and looked perfect. It took Will a moment before he remembered that the Lecters were wealthy, and Hannibal either had watched the family butler or had been shown how to set a table properly.

Hannibal looked up when he was done, his face perfectly blank. 

“Wow, it looks amazing, Hannibal,” Will said, wonder in his voice. “You did a good job.”

Will watched for the first time as a small smile graced Hannibal's features.

–

Hannibal watched Will as the man fed his dogs, his legs drawn up to his chest. The dogs had done exactly what Will feared they would do and practically leapt onto the boy when they were released from their banishment in the living room. Hannibal tried not to look fazed, but Will could tell the boy was scared once he wrangled them back. 

“They're good dogs,” Will told him, patting each dog on the head once they had calmed down. “They just get a little excited around new people. Have you ever had a dog, Hannibal?”

The boy shook his head, eyes trained on the dogs as if waiting for them to attack. Will sighed before grabbing a food bag and walking into the living room, the dogs trailing after him. After a moment, Hannibal followed. 

Now that the dogs had calmed down and had food in their stomachs Hannibal found himself reaching out and stroking one of the dogs as she walked by the couch. The dog kept moving and was soon out of the boy's reach as she plopped down on her spot on the floor. Will watched as a small pout came across his features. Will chuckled and sat next to him.

“Not so scary once they calm down, aren't they?” Will questioned, draping his arm on the back of the couch. Hannibal shook his head, eyes narrowed as if he could silently command the dog to come back. The dog yawned in response before closing her eyes. 

Will smiled and held a hand out to a young Goldie who came to sit next to him. The dog nudged his hand, demanding that he be pet. As he pet the dog, he felt Hannibal press closer to him. Glancing his way, he watched as the boy looked at the dog, his left hand hovering in the air as if he wanted to reach out and pet the dog too. Will pet the dog a couple more times before moving the hand away, closer to where Hannibal was. The dog, not pleased he wasn't being pet anymore, moved closer and gently nipped at Will's hand. Will resumed his petting and waited patiently as Hannibal's hand came closer to the dog, stroking the muzzle. Will removed his hand and Hannibal took over, fingers running through the soft yellow fur. 

Will smiled at the scene before leaning back into the couch, closing his eyes to enjoy the peacefulness. However, his eyes soon shot back open when Hannibal let out a strange noise before launching himself back again him. 

“What's wrong?” He asked, eyes looking back and forth between the boy and the dog. The dog had his head cocked to the side, tongue hanging out while Hannibal was holding his hand to his chest defensively. “Did Simon bite you? Let me look.” Will gently pried Hannibal's arm away from his chest and inspected the limb. There were no red marks or bite marks, but the hand was covered in a thin layer of sticky saliva. Will let out a sigh of relief. 

“He only licked you?” Hannibal nodded, his nose wrinkling in disgust and glaring at Simon. The dog stared back, tail thumping against the floor. Will inwardly smiled before standing. “Come on, lets get you cleaned up.”

 

“I see he also managed to get your face too,” Will joked as he rubbed a washcloth along Hannibal's arm and face. The boy pouted before giving a small smile as Will gently poked his nose with the washcloth. Will smiled and continued to scrub Hannibal's arm, but suddenly paused. He hadn't looked at the boy's hands before, but holding them now he noticed one hand had one too many fingers.

“You have polydactylism,” he wondered, running his fingers over Hannibal's left hand. Usually, when someone had polydactylism they had an extra pinky, or in other cases an extra thumb. Instead Hannibal had an two middle fingers on his left hand. It looked so natural as if having six fingers was what the human hand was supposed to have.

Hannibal ripped his hand from Will's grasp, hiding it behind his back. He had a look of fear, eyes refusing to meet Will's. 

_How many times have you been teased?_ Will wondered. _How many times have you been bullied for your extra finger?_

Slowly reaching out, Will rested his hand on Hannibal's head, fingers treading through the brown locks. The boy remained stiff, but slowly relaxed as Will continued.

“There is nothing wrong with your hand,” Will quietly said, fingers trailing down to rub his neck. “You just have more fingers to feel those around you.” Hannibal looked up at that, his brown eyes wide and curious. This close, Will could see his eyes weren't just brown, but a deep maroon. Will also saw the dark circles underneath, telling of sleepless night and the possibility of endless nightmares. Will felt a pang of sympathy for the boy, having no idea how to comfort him through this ordeal. When Hannibal continued to stare with wide eyes, Will sighed and stood up. 

“Come on, lets get you to bed.”

–

“Hannibal, you need to sleep.” Will scolded, arms crossing his chest as the boy shook his head defiantly. Will had put Hannibal to bed hours ago, but when he came by the guest room and saw the light was still on with the boy sleepily pacing the room Will decided he needed to intervene. 

Hannibal pointed at him, which confused Will before he figured out the meaning.

“I'm awake because I don't need as much sleep,” Will reasoned. Granted, the reason he wasn't sleeping was probably the same as Hannibal's: No sleep meant no nightmares. “You, on the other hand, are a child and require more sleep than I do. Plus, you've gone through a traumatic experience. Sleep will help.”

Hannibal once again shook his head with such ferocity Will worried he would become dizzy. The too stood off, daring the other to look away first. Will immediately felt uncomfortable, but he withheld, brows furrowing in irritation. Hannibal seemed shocked that Will wasn't looking away. He must have picked up Will's distaste for keeping eye contact. After a few more minutes it was Hannibal who broke it off, shutting his eyes tightly as a yawn escaped his mouth. Will faintly smiled before guiding Hannibal back to the bed.

“How about this,” He bargained. “I'll stay with you until you fall asleep?” 

Hannibal continued to look away, but nodded. He climbed underneath the blankets while Will sat next to him on the bed. For awhile Hannibal refused to close his eyes, staring owlishly in the distance. Will slowly brought his hand up and trailed his fingers across Hannibal's forehead. The boy's eyes briefly widened before sinking shut, leaning into the touch in such a way Will thought he might have done it unconsciously. Will kept up his ministrations until Hannibal was completely limp, his breathing even and steady. Staying a few more minutes, Will got up and quietly snuck to his room, leaving the hall light on in case Hannibal needed to get up at some point in the night. 

Not quite ready to go to sleep, Will took out the book he had been reading before discovering Hannibal was still awake and continued from where he left off. He figured he'd read until he finished, which would maybe take about an hour. Fifteen minutes later Will was sound asleep, head resting gently on his chest.

–

_Drip, drip, drip._

_The body strapped to the table was still gushing blood even after the occupant had long since left the world of the living. Will stood above her, hands deep within her body. Her liver would make a nice dish, he thought. Or perhaps he could use her intestines as well. There were so many decisions, so little time._

_This was his design._

_He already disposed of the husband and the other occupants of the house, but he felt he was missing someone. Someone small, someone defenseless._

_Will abandoned the woman on the table and proceeded around the room, searching every nook and cranny for the child he was sure was part of the family. There was another, but she was too easy to catch, too easy to kill. This one hid, this one would be a treat to capture._

_Licking the blood off his hands, Will spotted a bloody hand print on the wall. It was small, a perfect match for his prey. Looking over the wall, Will spotted the lever that would open the door and yanked on it._

_A small gasp was heard and inside sat a little boy. Will smiled, holding the knife in his hand higher._

_“I found you, little pet.”_

_The boy screamed even before Will brought the knife down upon his flesh, the wet shlicking sound echoing throughout the room. Even when he was finished, the boy kept screaming._

_And screaming._

_And screaming..._

Will jolted awake, the book falling out of his hands as he jumped out of bed and ran to Hannibal's room. The boy screamed louder when Will entered, only seeing a man's silhouette, and huddled further into the corner of the bed. Will snapped on the overhead light and gently shushed Hannibal, walking over to the bed and sitting at the edge. 

“It's okay, Hannibal,” he whispered. “It's just me. It's me, Will Graham. Remember? You are not dreaming anymore. You're awake.” Will didn't reach out, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. He had no idea where Hannibal's mind was at this current moment and could lash out. He didn't want to cause anymore unneeded stress to the boy's fragile state. 

Hannibal stopped screaming, his breathing uneven and his eyes darting around the room. He was searching for something, the monster from his dream perhaps. However, Will soon realized he was looking for something far more precious as he leapt from the bed and scoured the room, his breathing becoming more and more uneven. 

“She's not here, Hannibal,” Will whispered, but Hannibal continued his searching. He was muttering to himself in Lithuanian, the words jumbling over each other with only one word Will was able to make out. “Mischa is not here, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal finally looked up, shaking his head before looking around the room again. He finally collapsed to the ground and broke down into tears. Will rushed to his side, still unsure if he should touch him. Hannibal made the decision for him and fell into his arms, just as he had done when Will found him at the crime scene. Will held tightly to him, letting Hannibal cry his heart out. There weren't any neighbors for him to disturb, so Will let him continue to scream and cry. 

When all of his adrenalin drained from his small body, Hannibal rested limply against the bigger body, head resting at the junction of Will's neck and shoulder. Will stroked his back, making soothing noises and nonsensical words he hoped would help Hannibal calm down. 

He almost missed it when Hannibal whispered: “...They're all gone.”

“Yes,” Will whispered back. “I'm sorry you had to go through this,”

Hannibal was silent once again and snuggled deeper into Will's chest.

“... Please don't leave tonight, Mr. Graham.” Hannibal pleaded, his tiny voice breaking as the tears came back. Will clutched him tighter to his person.

“Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you.” Going as slow as possible, Will picked up Hannibal and deposited him onto the bed once more. He untangled himself from the boy's grasp, hushing him when Hannibal made a whimpering noise before shutting the bedroom light off. He kept the door open, allowing the hall light to illuminate part of the bedroom floor and wall. Crawling in next to Hannibal, Will made sure the blankets were covering both of them before wrapping Hannibal back into his embrace. The boy welcomed it and cuddled close, his head curled just underneath Will's chin. Despite the dreams they both went through that night, they soon succumbed to sleep wrapped up in each others' arms. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, what's this? A new chapter? I promised I hadn't abandoned this story, just put it on a back burner. So far all of my stories are going to be finished sometime in the future. I was hoping to get at least one done during Veteran's day, but it might be a week long process. Thank-you for the kudos and favorites on this story, and thank-you for patiently waiting.

Days passed and Will and Hannibal's days fell into a pattern. Since Will didn't have to go into town for work he spent most of his time keeping Hannibal entertained. He thought perhaps the boy would just watch television like most children his age, but Hannibal would become bored with the shows and films Will offered. On occasion he would stop on a cooking channel, but he would flip change it after a few minutes, shaking his head in disgust. Will soon learned Hannibal was not like most children, summing it up to being European rather than American. Hannibal still didn't talk, but he would utter a few words here and there. They were mostly “thank-you” or “okay” or “Mr. Graham” if he was trying to get his attention. Otherwise, Hannibal was completely silent, following him around like one of his dogs, a little ghost child not wanting to be alone.

Will was quick to pick up on what the boy liked and didn't like. Hannibal didn't like to watch tv, but he liked cooking based on his lingering on cooking channels. After this connection Will would always ask the boy to help him cook meals. He would explain what he was doing and point out spices or food names, watching as Hannibal took in everything he said.

Hannibal also liked to watch Will care for the dogs. He would perch on a chair or the couch and watch as Will played with the dogs, brushed them, or gave them a bath. Will showed Hannibal what tricks they knew, and he offered the boy the treat bag so he could reward them himself.

This lead to another observation Will made: Hannibal liked animals, but he particularly liked birds. He caught Hannibal trying to feed some song birds with bread, but with the dogs running around the boy became frustrated.

“There's a small lake nearby where I do all my fishing,” Will announced when he watched Hannibal scowl at Simon as the Goldie gobbled up pieces of bread. “The geese like to raise their young near there. The goslings are probably all grown now, but I can take you to the lake tomorrow if you'd like.” Hannibal's face lit up, making Will smile in turn.

And the most important thing Will learned about Hannibal over the last few days was Hannibal liked to be challenged, and he fell into boredom quickly. Will spent an hour digging around his house before he was able to find an old chessboard.

“Do you play chess?” Will asked as he set the pieces. Hannibal nodded, picking up a piece and rolling it around in his hand. He made a small face before putting it back. Will laughed. “Don't like the plastic?” When Hannibal shook his head, Will continued to smile. “I suppose not, but this will do for now.” Will finished setting the board on the living room table before sitting down. Hannibal mimicked him and sat on the opposite side.

They played three rounds. It had been a long time since Will last played and so he lost the first round almost immediately. The second round lasted longer, but Hannibal still picked off every one of his pieces before cornering Will's king. At the third loss, Will could see Hannibal had become bored once more.

“I'm not much of a challenge am I?” He laughed. He felt some embarrassment at being beat by a child three times in a row, but he didn't dwell on it for long. He stood from his chair and glanced out the window. The sky was clear and it didn't look like the wind had picked up from this morning. Nodding to himself, Will looked back to Hannibal, who was watching him curiously.

“How about we go down to the lake?” He suggested.

Hannibal simply smiled.

–

Even though it was still technically summer, the nights were beginning to cool down. The clothes Hannibal was borrowing from the hospital were too thin for the boy to continue to wear. Will could see he was cold as he bundled himself up with blankets, his nose wrinkling at the dog hair.

“I think I have some extra clothes from when I was a kid still hanging around.” Will said as he lowered the ladder to the attic. Hannibal stood next him as he always did, peering up at the darkness. Will began to climb the steps, looking over his shoulder to the boy below.

“Do you want to come up with me?” When Hannibal nodded, Will climbed back down and picked him up before continuing up the steps. The attic was filled to the brim with boxes and trunks, the only light permitting in the room was from the light below before Will turned on the overhanging light. With the additional light, Hannibal could see there was also furniture residing up in the attic along with piles of boxes.

“Watch your step,” he warned as he set the boy down. “It's crowded up here, and there's dust and spiders.” Hannibal didn't seem to listen as he moved around the boxes, and Will sighed. He figured Hannibal couldn't get into too much trouble and started to look through some old boxes that contained memories of his younger years.

“I inherited all this stuff from my father,” he filled the silence. “He kept all of this over the years, even after I left for college. When he died, I didn't have the heart to get rid of anything and just sort of kept it.”

He didn't hear a response, but then again he wasn't expecting one. However, after a few moments Will became aware of the overbearing silence and turned to see what Hannibal was doing.

The boy was sitting on a dusty armchair, staring intently at something in his hands. Will stopped in his search for clothes and moved over to where he sat.

“Hannibal, are you okay?”

The boy was silent, but he offered the object in his hands for Will to see.

It was a doll, an old doll that dated well beyond Will's childhood. She had dark eyes and rosy cheeks that were littered with freckles. Her hair was in surprisingly good condition, but Will could tell the blond locks were once curly. Now they were just frizzy and poofy, but if he tried Will bet he could tame the hair to look a little nicer. The doll's clothes were also in nice condition, the dress undamaged from moths or water. Will was a little surprised to see the doll, let alone the condition it was in, but at Hannibal's inquiring look he shrugged his shoulders.

“Probably used to belong to my mother when she was a little girl. I didn't have any siblings, and I wasn't close to any girls. I'm a little surprised my father kept the doll after all this time...” He trailed off, his mind wandering away to his childhood. It was split into two sections: one with his mother, and one without. When his mother was around, everything was okay, and it was a much happier place. However, the other part...

Hannibal grabbed Will's hand and pulled him back into the present. He held the doll up before pulling the doll closer to himself. Will thought nothing of the action before realization dawned on him.

“Do you want to keep it?” When Hannibal nodded, Will warned him, “Make sure the dogs don't get it. They're good dogs, but if they catch wind of anything resembling a stuffed animal they will destroy it.”

Hannibal nodded again, holding the doll closer. Will knew he shouldn't be giving or allowing Hannibal to play with a girl's toy, but he knew it would be a losing battle. Besides, he held no attachment to the doll. Might as well let someone who wants to play with it have it. Will returned to rummaging through boxes while Hannibal stroked the dolls face, a smile on his face as he silently mouth a name over and over.

–

No matter how hard Will tried, he could not get Hannibal to talk about the night of his family's death. He knew the subject would be hard and traumatizing to talk about for Hannibal, but no matter what approach he made Hannibal would clam up more than he usually did and stop responding to anything Will asked. He remained in this despondent state long after Will gave up, and Will worried for his state of mind. He wished Alana was back from her meetings, but until then he would have to do his best. He once asked Hannibal to try and draw what the killer looked like, draw anything at all about that night. Will had soon discovered Hannibal had amazing artistic abilities for someone for his age. If Hannibal had seen the killer, then he might be able to draw him to near perfect likeness, but Hannibal refused to draw anything dealing with the killer.

Jack had already been calling for any news or updates, but since Will had nothing new to aid in their search in the killer their calls ended in shouting matches before one of them hung up on the other. The killer was still at large, but he was now laying low. There were no new bodies or leads, and the trail had gone cold. The only one who could help was a traumatized eight-year-old boy. Will didn't want to rush him; didn't want him to withdraw and have all his hard work ruined. Will tried to answer the calls whenever Hannibal was busy drawing or looking at some bird books he had found in his bookshelf, but Will had the suspicion the boy was aware of what was going on.

Whenever Will entered the room after talking to Jack, Hannibal would look upset. Will tried hard not to use his empathy on Hannibal, but whenever the child looked so sad he almost couldn't help himself. Hannibal was upset for many reasons. He was unable to save his family, unable to save Mischa, and now he couldn't even help the man who was trying to catch the killer. Will did his best to try and cheer him up, smiling at him and distracting him with something new. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but Hannibal would be tuned into what Will had to say.

–

“What's Lithuania like?” Will asked one morning while he fed the dogs. He saw Hannibal lift a shoulder in the corner of his eye, and knew the boy was lying. “Come on, there must have been something you liked about it.”

Hannibal remained silent, looking disinterestedly at the dogs while they ate. The doll from the attic was curled in his arms. Will tried something different. “Do you know where your aunt and uncle are? The ones from France? They still haven't responded back to our calls.”

Again, Hannibal shrugged his shoulder, but now he looked a little concerned.

“Have you met your relatives from France?”

Hannibal nodded, a small smile forming.

“I take it you like them?”

Again, Hannibal nodded.

“Yeah? Do you speak French, or do they speak Lithuanian?”

Hannibal gave a cryptic smile, which didn't answer anything.

Will chuckled and shook his head. He finished feeding the dogs and put their food away. “You're a strange child.” He murmured, a smile still etched on his face.

Hannibal just continued to smile.

–

Hannibal was still having nightmares. Will didn't expect the dreams to stop as the days passed, his own nightmare having plagued him continually over the years. He could see it was putting a toll on the small boy. The dark bags under his eyes lingered in the mornings, revealing Hannibal's restless sleep. He would sit next to Will as he watched the news on the tv, and it would only take minutes before the boy was curled against his side with the doll wrapped in his arms. Will would let him sleep for hours, remaining still as long as he was able to before the dogs demanded attention. Hannibal either didn't have any nightmares, or he didn't remember them when he napped during the day, for his slumber was undisturbed.

When bedtime came around, Hannibal would become anxious and try and stay up as long as possible before Will forced him to go to bed. Will sat by his side, combing fingers through his hair and coaxing him to sleep. Once he was certain the boy was asleep, he would sneak out of the room, but no matter what he did the boy would either wake up screaming or wake at some point in the night and remain awake if the darkness under his eyes said anything. Will tried to get Hannibal to play with the dogs, thinking if the child wore himself out he would be too tired to dream. But Hannibal didn't like to be around the dogs for too long, seeking shelter on the couch. Will then gave him tea which was supposed to make him sleepy, but it seemed to do the opposite and wind him up.

Will sighed and flopped down on his bed, his dogs curling up around the bedroom and settling in for the night. It had taken longer for Hannibal to fall asleep than usual, but he eventually succumbed to sleep. Will knew it wouldn't last for long, maybe two or three hours before he woke from nightmares. It was just a question if he would wake screaming or remain silent. Will sighed again, running a hand over his face before turning off the light. He hoped it was a quiet night.

 

The jingling of dog collars and a creak of the door are what wake Will, startling him from a dreamless sleep. He sat up quickly and turned on the bedside lamp. A small distressed noise was heard as the blinding light filled the room, and Will calmed when he saw it was Hannibal who had sneaked into his room.

“Hannibal,” he asked. “What's wrong?”

The boy remained quiet, stubbornly looking at the ground. Will saw that the doll was once again in his arms. The dogs looked at the boy from their beds, their tails thumping against the hardwood floor as he walked past them, but they didn't get up. Will watched as the boy neared the bed and paused a few steps.

“Did you have a bad dream, Hannibal?” he asked and he started to get out of bed.

“No.”

Will paused, startled to hear the small voice. Hannibal continued to look at the ground before he took a deep breath and walked up to the bed. Will lost his voice as Hannibal crawled up onto the bed, over his legs, and curled up against the wall.

Will gaped, trying to process what just happened. He knew he should send Hannibal back to his own bed and sit up next to him throughout the night. He didn't want the boy to become dependent on him, but he knew Hannibal would resist and make everything difficult for both of them. Sighing, Will admitted defeat and turned off the light. He scooted as close to the edge of the bed as possible, giving Hannibal as much room as he wanted. He started to drop off when he felt Hannibal move closer, and closer until he was curled against his back. Will sighed.

“Don't blame me if I roll on top of you in my sleep.”

Hannibal made no response.

“This is also just a one time thing. You are sleeping in your own bed tomorrow.”

Again, Hannibal didn't respond, but Will could tell he was smiling.

 

It was not a one time thing. The same thing happened the next night, and the next, and the next. Will tried to put Hannibal back to his own bed, sitting next to him and waiting for him to fall asleep before going to his own bed. It turned to be futile for he would wake moments later to find Hannibal curled next to him once more.

“You can't keep sneaking in here,” Will gently scolded as Hannibal pulled the covers over the doll before tucking them under his chin. “Tonight is the last night, okay?”

But Hannibal just smiled as he settled on his side of the bed, his eyes having just a tiny bit of spark to them. The darkness under his eyes had lost their intensity as the days passed, and he stopped falling asleep in the mornings after he would eat breakfast. He stayed awake all day and went to bed when Will told him to, but now he was getting better at pretending to fall asleep and waiting until he could sneak into Will's room.

After a few nights Will stopped trying and just accepted the fact Hannibal slept better in his bed than the one in the guest room. He knew it was because he was next to another living person; that someone was there when he woke up in the middle of the night. He still woke from nightmares, but none of them resulted in him screaming in terror. Will was even less willing to admit that since Hannibal started crawling into bed with him his own dreams were kept at bay. He knew there was some psychological reason behind it, but he wasn't complaining.

Hannibal sighed from his side of the bed, one arm curled around the doll with the other clutching at Will's sleeve. Will watched the boy as he slept before closing his eyes, trying to enjoy this small pocket of peacefulness while it lasted.


	4. Chapter 4

“Jack this is a bad--”

“No, Will, you had one job and you haven't done it.”

“He's a traumatized little boy, Jack. He's finally opening up to me and this will only set him back.”

Jack and Will squared off in Will's kitchen with Alana standing off to the side. Progress in getting Hannibal to talk was at a stand still, and the killer had yet to show back up. Will, in Jack's opinion, wasn't getting information fast enough.

“Dr. Bloom has years of practice in this sort of thing, Will. She'll be able to get Hannibal to talk.”

“Hannibal's finally stopped having nightmares every night. Moving him to a new home will only make it worse.”

“Will,” Alana spoke up for the first time since the argument started. “This is for the best.”

Will remained silent and looked at Alana's black shoes in anger. Jack opened his mouth to say something but Alana cut him off. “Where is Hannibal?”

“In his room. He always runs up there when Jack comes over.” Will sent the man a look before drawing away. “This is a bad idea.”

“I don't care what you think at this moment.” Jack snapped. “Just bring him down.”

 

Hannibal was still as he watched Will pack up a small bag with some clothes and toys. Will didn't like the intense look he was giving him and how tightly he hugged the doll.

“Everything's going to be okay, Hannibal. I have a friend I would like you to meet. She's really nice.”

Hannibal didn't move, and when Will went to hold his hand he drew away. “Hannibal...”

The boy shook his head and pointed at the bag. Will couldn't bring himself to tell the boy he was leaving. He picked up the bag and went to the door, holding it open and looking at Hannibal expectantly.

“We'll talk about it down stairs while we eat lunch.”

Hannibal shook his head again, but he slowly walked over to Will and held the offered hand. Together they went downstairs to meet up with the others. At the sight of Jack and Alana, Hannibal drew back behind Will, clutching at his leg. Will put a hand on his head to comfort him before continuing to walk forward.

“Hannibal, I would like you to meet my friend Alana. She’s a doctor.” Will said, telling half the truth. He didn’t want to scare Hannibal more by letting him know she was like the doctors at the hospital that tried to probe and dig deep into his mind, trying to coax words and memories of the night of his family’s death.

Hannibal peeked around Will’s legs, but he tried to stay out of sight. Alana knelt down to his level, a cheerful smile on her face.

“Hello, Hannibal. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard all about you.”

Hannibal didn’t respond. His face had gone blank, similar to when he was at the hospital. Will didn’t like it.

Alana continued on. “What do you have there?” She asked, gesturing at the doll. “Is that your doll? Did Will give you that?”

It took a moment, but Hannibal finally nodded, a small smile flitting to his face as he brought both the doll and Will closer to him.

“That’s nice of him,” Alana smiled. “I hope we can get to know each other better, Hannibal.”

The boy’s smile disappeared, and Will knew that any assumptions the boy made with the bag were connecting. He suddenly scowled and completely latched onto Will to the point of pain.

“Hannibal.”

The boy shook his head.

“Hannibal, it will be okay.”

But Hannibal thought differently. He let go of Will, dropping the doll in the process as well, and started to run back toward the stairs. Jack grabbed Hannibal's hand, and the boy turned quickly and bit into his finger. The man yelped and let go allowing Hannibal to flee from the kitchen. Will ran after him but was too late to stop him from shutting and locking the door.

“Hannibal, Hannibal, let me in, please.”

There was no response except for soft sobbing.

“Hannibal, please.” Will begged, gently rapping on the door. He heard footsteps and turned right as Alana rushed to his side. He motioned for her to be quiet as he knocked again. “Let's talk, Hannibal. Just the two of us. No Jack. No Alana. Just you and me.” When there was no movement Will added, “You want your doll don't you? She'll be really sad if you don't hug her.”

Will could see Alana didn't approve of his methods of bribing, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the crying little boy on the other side.

“Please, Hannibal.”

He waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally the flick of a lock sounded. Will sighed in relief before stepping inside. He shut the door behind him, hoping Alana would stay outside. Hannibal had made his way back to the bed and clutched his pillow. He didn't hesitate to grab the doll when it was offered, crushing it between him and the pillow. Will sat next to the boy, taking in his reddened face which still had tears streaking down. He gently wiped them away with a tissue.

“Hannibal, I’m sorry,” he said softly, stroking the boy’s cheek. “I don’t want you to go, either, but I have little choice in the matter.” The boy finally looked up at those words, seeing Will’s sad expression. “Alana… Alana is a good person. She can help you where I can’t. She knows how to help those who have gone through a traumatic experience. I don’t.”

I can just offer you an escape, Will thought. An escape from those experiences. I can’t help you.

Slowly, Hannibal let go of the pillow, his doll still clutched to his chest, and he wrapped his free arm around Will’s neck, hugging him as close as he could. Will hugged him back, tears coming to his own eyes.

“Don’t…make me leave,” Will gasped as Hannibal spoke, his words soft and hoarse. “Please.”

Will sighed and held him close, knowing he couldn’t keep Hannibal here. He spent his last minutes with him in his arms, rocking him gently until his hold became limp and his breathing evened out. Knowing he couldn’t prevent the inevitable any longer, Will carried the sleeping boy to where Alana was waiting. Alana gave him a sad, sympathetic smile before holding her arms out to take Hannibal. At the last minute, Will turned.

“I’ll carry him,” he said. “I don’t want him to wake up.”

Alana nodded, but Will knew she understood his alternative reasons.

They went to meet back up with Jack, who Will was surprised didn’t follow them upstairs to take his wrath out on Will. They both discovered that the agent was on the phone, silently listening to the other speaker.

Finally he said “I’ll let him know” before hanging up. He turned to Will and Alana, a dark glower on his face. “Alana, stay here with Hannibal. Will, I need you to come with me. The killer has struck again.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

The scene was just like the one at the Alekna’s home. Blood was everywhere, body parts scattered and unrecognizable. As horrific as it was, it wasn’t any different than what Will had witnessed before. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to dip into the horrific design, witnessing the occupants as they were killed again and again.

There wasn’t a rhyme or reason to the killings that he could gather. There wasn’t a connection to the Aleknas or any of the families that were killed. They all varied. The first was a single parent with a child, the second a typical modern family with two parents and two children, the third a non-married couple, the fourth and fifth being the Aleknas and the Lecters with only the Lecters having children, and Will doubted this one would be any different.

Still, it was perplexing. Why hadn’t the killer kill Hannibal as well? Autopsy showed Mischa was one of the last ones to be killed, the little girl must have hid and the killer found her. Meaning, Hannibal had to go out of his own spot to grab her body. How was the boy not seen?

Will shook his head. He was able to connect with the killer, but just as before he couldn’t get a full design. There was nothing coherent about it. Will didn’t understand anything.

He stepped back outside to where Jack was waiting, and the man shook his head when he saw Will’s expression.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Will agreed. He expected an outburst, but Jack only sighed and turned away to talk with Beverly to see if she found anything. Will ran his hand through is hair as he moved out of the way for forensics. He made his way toward the cars, wishing briefly for a bottle of whiskey. He leaned against his car, completely drained after the slip into the killer’s mind.

His phone began to vibrate and Will slowly pulled it out. However, he shot the phone to his ear when he was the caller’s name.

“Alana, what’s wrong? Is Hannibal okay?” Will asked in a rush.

“Everything is fine, Will.” Alana responded, but Will caught a hint of hesitancy. “Hannibal is awake.”

Will stood upright. “Is he okay?” He strained his ears, hoping to hear clues as to what was happening in the background, but all he could hear were the police sirens behind him and the chatter of the people that gathered around the yellow tape.

“He…He’s upset, Will.” Alana said. “When he woke up and saw you were gone he ran into your room and locked the door. Nothing I say is making him come out.”

Will sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Try to slide the phone under the door.” He suggested, but he knew as he said it Alana wouldn’t be able to. Still, she tried. “Tell him I want to talk to him.” He asked next.

All Will could hear was silence and he crushed the phone to his ear, hoping to catch a hint of a reply. Something must have happened, for Alana said, “I’ll leave the phone outside the door.”

Will waited as Alana put the phone down and presumably walked away. The silence stretched to an uncomfortable level until Will finally heard a faint click of a door opening and brief static as something ran across the speaker. There was another click and faint breathing. Will let out a shaky sigh and fell back against the car.

“Hey, Hannibal. How’s it going?”

As expected, he was met with silence.

“I’m sorry I had to leave, Hannibal, but I promise I will be home today. Do you know what you want to eat tonight? What did you eat for lunch?”

Silence, but the breathing seemed to be deepening as if the boy was trying to keep from crying.

“Oh, Hannibal, I’m so sorry.” Will didn’t want the boy to be upset, not when he was so far from him. “I’m so sorry, Hannibal. I’ll be home soon. I promise.” He paused and added. “Do you want Alana to put Simon in the room with you?”

Hannibal had yet to respond to anything, and Will wasn’t sure he was going to, but he had to try. Will stood in silence, hoping if he didn’t talk it would get a response out of the boy.

Hannibal made a small noise, and Will decided to take it as a yes. “I’ll have Alana put Simon in the room for you, okay? Can you put her back on the line?”

It took longer than what Will would have liked, but eventually he got back on with Alana and told her which dog he wanted in the room with Hannibal.

“He’s grown attached to him, and I think it will help him calm down,” he explained.

Alana agreed, and when everything was taken care of she asked, “How’s the case?”

“Getting nowhere.” Will groaned. “I’m at my point and if this case doesn’t kill me, Jack will.”

“I’m sure something will come up,” Alana promised. Will was about to reply when someone called out his name. He turned and saw Jack staring at him, motioning him to come back to the scene.

“I have to go. I’ll be home soon. Please make sure he eats something and doesn’t just give it to Simon.”

With promises made and Will’s senses calmed, he went back to the scene, noting with dread the look on Jack’s face.

“You need to see something.”

“What is it?”

Jack sighed. “It’s nothing good.”

Back in the house, Will followed Jack and Beverly down to the basement, which was relatively untouched. Will didn’t go down there, focused on where the crime had taken place. They went into the furnace room, which had to be broken down because it was locked from the inside, and stepped in. Will took one look before his blood ran cold.

On the wall, written in blood, were the words: I know.

Under the letters was a newspaper clipping with the headlines, “Lone Survivor of the Cannibal Massacre” with a picture of Hannibal alongside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it is so short, but we are near the end now.


End file.
